


Poof

by doingitallwithyou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Bottom Niall, Choking, Dark, Developing Relationship, Face Slapping, Hurt Niall, Kidnapped Niall, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Molestation, Niall-centric, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Really Character Death, Protective Harry, Protective Liam, Protective Louis, Protective Zayn, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Violence, idk - Freeform, uhhhhhhhhhh, um, what else is there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:19:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doingitallwithyou/pseuds/doingitallwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall disappeared that night. Poof. Gone like magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi hello everyone, i started this fic in my one shot book, but since it's going to be a few parts im going to put it in it's own and in the book just to sorta keep it more organized for myself? 
> 
> i hope you like it, if you have any questions or comments i'll be glad to hear them :)

Niall disappeared.

Poof. Gone like magic.

Harry watches him slip out of the club with hazy, unfocused eyes. His cheeks were dusted with a light pink blush and he moved quickly, slinking through the crowd and avoiding whoever tries to speak to him. Harry momentarily thinks that he should follow him, but he doesn’t. Seconds pass, maybe hours or minutes and the four of them were still standing outside of the bar, arms crossed over their chests as if to fight off the bitter cold that nipped at their exposed skin. They look down the dimly lit streets, hoping to see their blonde haired friend or _fuck_ even just a sign that he had been there at all. Harry was scared and worried; what if something terrible had happened to the sweetest and kindness one of them all? Louis stands on shaky legs from his seat on the curb and pulls his mobile out again, catching the wary eyes of Liam and Zayn, who both seem to think it’s no use. His shoulders slump and Louis looks to the ground sadly before deciding it was worth a shot, regardless of what the other boys say.

He couldn’t just _give up_ like that. He couldn’t just give up, not on Niall.

 The phone rings and rings and rings and _damn it_ where could he be? What could be happening that meant Niall couldn’t pick up his _fucking_ phone? A sob breaks through Louis’ lips and he throws his cellphone onto the pavement, collapsing to the ground as it shatters into dozens of tiny pieces. Dread spreads through Liam’s body as he watches Louis break; Liam could almost see him shatter into tiny pieces just like his phone and he has to look away. He wants to do more than look away, to be completely honest Liam wants to run away as far as his feet can carry him.

But he can’t.

Turning his brown eyes to the pavement beneath his feet Liam dials Niall’s number. He does it quickly; having typed the number in so many times tonight that by now it was practically programmed into his brain.  The rings are long and dragged out and Liam doesn’t realize that he’s holding his breath until he hears Niall’s voicemail begin to play. He swears loudly, slamming his fist into the brick wall of the club as a taxi pulls up in front of them. Harry lets tears fall freely from his eyes now. There’s no point in holding it in, so he screams. Loud but not too loud, just loud enough for everyone on the street to look at him. Harry feels dozens of pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t care, he walks numbly towards the taxi van and covers his mouth in a sad attempt to disguise his sobs. As he sits there he prays that Niall is back at his flat. He has to hold on to the hope that Niall is okay.

The four of them climb into the van and they sit in a worried silence for the entire ride, because what if Niall isn’t at home? Or what if he is? What if they walk in and they find him on the floor, his crimson blood spattered all over the plush white carpet and the normally happy, blue walls? What if they had to look at him with his pink cheeks drained of color and all of the energy lost out of his blue eyes?

Louis sniffles loudly and watches out the window, silently hoping to see Niall walking, “Why… Why isn’t he answering our calls?” he says sadly, “What If he’s hurt? What if he needs us?”

The boys stay quiet, not quite knowing how to answer; Liam just places his uninjured hand on Louis’ thigh and lightly squeezes, hoping the small gesture will help in some way.

 

Arriving at the secluded flat complex that Niall lives in was nerve racking; Zayn was surprised to feel tiny beads of sweat form on his brow as he exited the van. He had been trying not to think of all of the awful things that could be waiting for them when they entered. Niall dead or Niall raped or Niall beaten to a pulp or Niall _not even there_. They all were seeming to forget that part. Niall may not even be home, and if that is the case, where is Niall?

_Niall Niall Niall Niall Niall._

Zayn led the way to the gate, stopping as they approached a tiny keypad. His tanned fingers danced over the numbers to type in Niall’s lock code, but his hand hovered just above the buzzer key, which would alert a security guard of their arrival. Pressing down that button was becoming more and more difficult but Zayn just couldn’t make himself do it; he was too frightened of what the outcomes were.

“For fucks sake,” Louis hisses, nearly throwing Harry out of the way to get to Zayn, who hardly even blinks an eye when Louis shoves him to the side. There is a foggy haze over Zayn’s thoughts and he could just barely hear Louis begin to bicker with the man hidden behind the camera, “What do you mean we’re _not on his list_?! What _fucking_ list?” He shouts, nearly pressing his nose to the lens in a desperate attempt to intimidate the guard.

Liam clears his throat and steps forward, placing his uninjured hand tightly on Louis’ hip and moving him to the side. His big brown eyes looked directly into the camera, “Sir, please. You’ve got to allow us in, our mate might be hurt or in danger and we haven’t got the slightest until we get in there and see him.” A smile almost creeps up to Louis’ face when he spots Liam’s puppy dog pout out of the corner of his eye. But the smile never comes. He can’t possibly smile right now, but when he hears the faint groan from the man on the other end and a buzz Louis is immediately following behind Liam as they sprint inside. And Liam is running fast, really fast, through the lobby and he really doesn’t care for the looks people are giving him and he doesn’t care if the other boys are close behind. Niall is only several floors away and Liam can almost hear his voice as he nearly punches the button to retrieve the elevator. But it’s going too slow; the time this is taking is something they can’t afford.

 Liam whips his head around wildly, almost frightening Harry with the look in his eyes, “Where are the _fucking_ stairs!”

Harry blinks several times, not allowing himself to cry again, and points across the lobby. Liam’s eyes flicker to where Harry points and then he’s running again, Harry and the others on his heels. The four of them take two, even three, steps at a time and are out of breath when they come to a stop outside Niall’s door. They’re all frozen; none of them move and suddenly Harry finds himself holding his breath when he feels a hand pushing on his shoulder and he whips around, glaring at Zayn.

“Why me?”

Louis curses, “Just do it, Harry.”

Harry almost sticks his tongue out but stops when he begins to open the door, he gasps. “I-It’s already open.”  And he pushes inside, knowing that the others are right behind him.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys arrive at Niall's flat to see that it is absolutely destroyed, and Niall is nowhere to be found. 
> 
> (sorry no summary, don't want to ruin it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi hello, second part to my new mini fic!

“Oh, _shit._ ” Zayn gasps, shoving to the front of the group and stopping dead in his tracks. The place was a _mess_ , not even just a mess, a fucking _disaster_. Niall’s belongings were carelessly thrown around, his couch flipped, picture frames and vases and paintings all broken on the floor. Zayn’s hand flies to his mouth in an attempt to cover his strangled cry as he wandered farther in. The mantel where Niall kept their awards was torn apart, each prize was thrown to the ground or destroyed and Zayn could barely fathom what he was seeing. Seeing. He was _seeing_ all of this, but he wasn’t seeing _Niall_. Where is Niall?

“Niall!” Liam shouts, stepping over Niall’s broken things to get into the bedroom. When he peaks his head around the corner he isn’t at all surprised to see that the entire room is trashed, too, “Christ…” He whispers, wandering inside. Liam can hear Harry’s sad sobs from the other room and Zayn and Louis cursing, but all Liam can focus on is the square sheet of paper that is laid perfectly centered on one of Niall’s pillows. For a moment Liam tries to call out to the rest of them, to get them in there to see it, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. As if he swallowed glue and any words he had in him were stuck on his tongue. Liam licks his lips and pads over to the bed, sitting down on the crumpled sheets and reaching for the piece of paper.

It’s thick, like card stock or poster board, and it’s cut into a perfect square that fits just in his palm. His heart is pounding a thousand miles a minute and he knows that he should read it, but he can’t seem to open his eyes or rid himself of the urge to vomit. “Guys-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “Guys!” he tries again, running his finger along the edge of the paper as he waits for the others to enter the room. When he hears Harry’s sniffles he continues, “I-I found this,” he begins, holding it with two hands as if it were a china doll, “on the pillow.”

“Well,” Louis says, stepping forward, “well what is it?”

“It looks like some sort of note.” Liam says quietly, looking up at Louis.

Louis’ blue eyes bug widely and he waves his hands in front of Liam’s face, “Go on then, read it! For fucks sake…”

Gulping down the sudden urge to cry, Liam begins to read, “ _As you read this you probably look around you and wonder, ‘What is happening?_ Why _is this happening? Who is doing this?_ Why _are they doing this?”_ Liam pauses and takes a shaky breath, looking to his bandmates for reassurance. Zayn nods and Liam continues, “ _And it’s quite simple, really. You five very, very lucky boys have something that I very much want_ , _but didn’t know how to get my hands on. I’ve planned many things, plotted and organized, but nothing seemed sure to get me what I want, except this. Except now,_ I _have something-some_ one, _that_ you _want._ ”

“Oh, God.” Harry gulps, dropping down beside Liam on the bed.

Liam licks his lips and grabs Harry’s hand, squeezing tightly before continuing, “ _The only question is, what are you willing to do to get him back?_ ” The rest of the boys wait for Liam to continue, but he tosses the card to the ground, “That’s it, that’s all it said.” His hands begin to shake and he stands up, pacing back and forth quickly, “That’s all it _fucking_ said!”

“We- we need to call the police,” Zayn pipes up, “we can’t just stand around here and wait for something to happen when that, that _bastard_ has Niall somewhere!”

Louis nods, “But how the fuck did someone get in here?” everyone shrugs and he takes a sharp breath, “ _We_ could barely make it in here without being crucified, how could some random bloke just stroll on in, trash the place, _and_ take Niall with him?”

“We need to call the police.” Zayn says again, standing up and pulling his cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up and taking a long drag.

Harry’s eyes go dangerously wide when he sees what Zayn is doing and he nearly tackles him, knocking the cigarette to the ground, “ _What_ are you doing, Zayn? In Niall’s house, in his _bedroom_ are you serious?” He shouts, picking up the still-lit stick and carrying it off to the bathroom. Zayn hissed under his breath as he hears the toilet flush.

“You know I’ve got an entire pack.” Zayn mutters.

“I swear to _God_ Zayn if you-”

“Shut _up_!” Louis howls, jumping up from the bed with anger and _fear_ , pure fear in his eyes, “Just shut the fuck _up_! Niall is _missing,_ fucking _gone_ and you two are fighting over a cigarette?”

“Guys,” Liam tries to reason, “I think we all need to calm down, yeah? Let’s all sit, and think. Try to figure out a thing to do.”

Silently the four boys climb onto the bed; Liam retrieves the note from the floor and puts it in the center of the circle they made. They all just stare at it, not knowing what to do. Should they call the cops? Paul? Niall’s family? They have no idea. They never planned for something like this to happen, they were never told what to do in case a situation like this arises.

“I think we need to be careful,” Harry whispers, “if we call the cops what if this person finds out and, and hurts Niall? Then what?”

Before Zayn can quip back at Harry, Liam speaks up, “Harry’s right,” he says, looking right at Zayn, “we have to be careful. Very careful. Any move we make could result in Niall being hurt.”

“Wait,” Louis gasps, smacking Liam’s arm, “flip it, flip the card over!”

Liam does and he is stunned by what is on the back, another note. “ _Before you call the police, I suggest you boys take a look at this, and if after seeing it you still want to contact someone… well, be my guest.”_  Liam pauses, squinting his eyes and holding the card closer, trying to read the text below. “Wha-what is this?”

Louis grabs it and takes a look, “It, it looks like some sort of website?” And it _looked_ like a website, to the naked eye. But below that, below the address, was a list of complicated directions to something called the Dark Web, or the Deep Web. Louis shakes his head, confused because he thought that there was only the normal Web. “What the fuck is the _Dark Web_?” he spits, “This sounds like some corny, horror film _bullshit_.”

“Should we check it out?” Harry asks quietly; his voice falters, as if he really, really did not want to see what sort of website it was. He really didn’t want to see how dark, or deep, this new web was.

Zayn rubs a hand through his hair before dropping his arm around Harry’s shoulders, “I reckon we haven’t got much of a choice, do we lads?”

As each of them nod Liam stands again, searching through Niall’s place for his laptop, though by the looks of the place it’d only make sense that the thing was stolen. But, by some crazy miracle, Liam finds it sitting on the coffee table. As if waiting for him. Liam curses under his breath, this was all planned. The person who took Niall _knew_ how to play this game, and play it well. This person set everything up for them, knowing exactly what their next moves would be. But, puffing up his chest as he did so, Liam marched back into the bedroom, carrying the computer beneath his arm.

He sets it on the bed and they all gather around it, waiting for Liam to begin the task of reaching the dark web, though first he decides he wants to know just what exactly they’re getting themselves into

“Liam,” Zayn scolds, “we haven’t got _time_ for this!”

“We have time.” Liam states, eyes following the screen as he scrolls through results…

_When you surf the Web, you really are just floating at the surface. Dive below and there are tens of trillions of pages -- an unfathomable number -- that most people have never seen. They include everything from boring statistics to human body parts for sale (illegally)._

Liam licks his lips and ignores the gasp he hears from Harry, who has been reading over his shoulder. He clicks to another website, devouring the information he is being given…

_Hiring a hitman has never been easier. Nor has purchasing cocaine or heroin, nor even viewing horrific child pornography._

_Such purchases are now so easy, in fact, that they can all be done from the comfort of one's home at the click of a button... and there's almost nothing the police can do about it._

_This worrying development of the criminal black market is down entirely to the Deep Web - a seething matrix of encrypted websites - also known as Tor - that allows users to surf beneath the everyday internet with complete anonymity._

“That’s enough,” Louis whispers, “I don’t want to read any more.”

Zayn nods, “Just follow the fucking instructions, Liam.” And it seems as though all of them are holding their breath as Liam’s fingers dance across the key board, his watery eyes flickering to the small sheet of paper every few seconds. But Liam has never been very internet savvy, and these instructions are almost too vague, mentioning only bits and pieces of something called _Tor_. Without hesitation Liam downloads it, following the other instructions of covering the webcam with tape, disabling the firewall, cookies, and JavaScript. Minutes later he opens the new Tor browser, slightly nervous and confused as to where to go from there.

“Just type in the address.” Harry suggests quietly.

It seems as though they all hold their breath as Liam redirects them through the Dark Web, navigating finally to the website they’ve been given. As the page loads Liam can feel his heart begin to pound, harder and faster than it ever has; soon the screen flashes white, then black, red, and back to white and a window pops up.

_Welcome, Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Harry._

It said,

_I think it’s only fair to warn you, that you probably will not like what you see here, unfortunately, that is just too bad. People are going to pay very, very good money for my business and that is not something I am quite willing to give up. So enjoy your stay, you’ll hear more from me soon X…._

The screen flickers before the text is gone and a new page loads into view, it shows what appears to be a camera live streaming someone’s basement. It’s dim, barely bright enough to see anything, but then the lights flash on. The camera adjusts quickly and focuses on… Niall.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Zayn chokes out, moving closer to the screen, “Niall! That’s Niall, oh fuck.”

Niall is sitting in a chair; his hands are seemingly tied around the back and there is a bandana tied around his mouth, gagging him and staunching his ability to speak but his head shoots up, as if he heard someone call his name. Tears spring to Liam’s eyes as he takes in Niall’s appearance, the bruises, the mussed hair, and his obviously red rimmed eyes. It’s painful and torturous to see, but Liam can’t seem to look away. Shocked, Louis can’t seem to speak. He watches with wide eyes as Niall’s shoulders shake with muffled sobs and his heart aches, wanting nothing more than to jump through the screen and just _hold_ him. Squeeze him tightly and fix his hair and just keep him _safe_ , but he can’t. All Louis can do is watch as a chat bubbles pops up on the screen, the dinging noise it makes making each of them jump.

_Here’s a little preview on how this project, once it’s fully operable and running, will work. There will be a viewer count to the far left, on the bottom of the screen. Once a certain number of viewers is reached such as oh, I don’t know, let’s say 500, something like- this,_

A menu pops up beside the chat. Louis sees awful things like, “remove one clothing item for 50£” to things like “object insertion starting at 1,000£” and, something that makes bile rise in his throat, “personal show, anything goes 10,000£”

_And it will give viewers a list of actions for your friend to comply to; this can include anything from blowing a kiss to the camera to intercourse to violence and mutilation. But not for free. Each action or command comes with a price; the more risqué the command, the higher the price. Make sense?_

“Thi-this is fucking sick,” Zayn spits, “we have to do something.”

The others ignore him and keep reading.

 _As I said before, I am not very willing to lose my profit. Your friend will make me a large sum of money; the tiniest of actions that viewers can select will start at 100_ £, _going all the way up to 50,000_ £. _Now to you boys, as multi-billionaires, this might not sound like much. But picture this, hundreds of customers at once, trying to get a glimpse of Niall Horan, world famous boy band member. These people will pay_ thousands _just to be admitted into this website, you understand?_ Thousands _for their own private show._

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Liam hisses, fists clenching on either side of the laptop, “I’ll fucking _kill_ him.”

_I want 6 billion, no less. Each day that it takes you boys to get it to me, is a day longer that your friend will be putting on a show. And now, a preview of what’s to come. Enjoy, boys._

The chat bubble disappears and the camera focuses on Niall again, this time is seems as though he’s staring dead at them. His blue eyes are sad and scared, but they look right at them; he knows that they’re watching. Harry can tell by the way Niall’s eyebrows crease that he _knows_ they’re watching.

“I-I don’t think I can do this…” Liam whispers, holding onto Harry’s sleeve tightly.

Then a figure wanders into the frame. He’s dressed in all black and he is _large,_ at least twice Niall’s size if not more, and he face is covered by a mask. He approaches Niall and Liam can feel Harry tense beside him, obviously hating the proximity of this, this _monster_ to Niall. _Their_ Niall. Their sweet, optimistic, gentle, hilarious, adorable, caring, friendly, Niall. Their Niall who visibly shakes as the man strokes his pink cheek, flinching as far away as his bindings would let him. The man then slaps Niall, quite literally slaps him across the face before turning towards the camera. His beady brown eyes look at them through the screen, “Hello,” he says, his voice clearly altered by some sort of program, “pleasure.” Then he laughs, “Well, for me, it is. I’m assuming it isn’t that much for you.”

Zayn begins to tremble with anger, “I wish I could get my hands on him.” He seethes.

The man then removes Niall’s gags and unties his binding, leaving Niall to slump limply in the chair, “Look at them,” the man orders. When Niall doesn’t comply he grabs a fistful of his blonde locks, forcing his head up. His blue eyes are filled to the brim with tears and Liam feels his heart just shatter in his chest, “I said fucking look at them.”

Niall’s pink lip trembles as the man tightens his grip, and leans close to his ear, “Talk to them.” He commands, “Tell them the answers to what they’re thinking.”

Wincing, Niall opens his mouth, “I-I’m sorry,” he gasps, “I’m sorry. He- he found me at the club, he said he’d kill a-all of you if I didn’t do what he said.”

“No, no, no, no,” Harry begins to ramble, tugging on his curls, “nononono.”

“I, h-he gave me the note and told me to go home, to get in-inside so the security wouldn’t question anything,” the man begins to stroke his large hand down Niall’s chest, “he told me to destroy the place, ju-just destroy everything, make it look like someone broke in. Just, just in case the cops got there before you guys d-did.” His fingers tweak Niall’s nipple, still holding his hair in the other hand, “Then he told me where to put the computer and the note, I-I did that.” He winces as the captor reaches a hand up his shirt, “Then I met him back outside- ah, ah,” the man yanks on his hair, causing Niall to squeal, “He didn’t co-come close to the place,” The man runs a hand over Niall’s thigh, making him wince, “he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get i-in himself. I met… I met him back outside so security wouldn’t get suspicious.”

Then the captor reaches out of the shot, coming back with a large knife. Louis lets out a shrill cry as the blade is trailed along Niall’s soft, pale skin, not quite hard enough to break the flesh. But Niall seemed utterly terrified, and he immediately begins to sob. His blue eyes produced a constant wave of tears and he flinched back in his wooden chair, softly begging the man to stop.

“Niall!” Zayn cries, leaning close to the screen as if he would be able to get through it, “NIALL!”

The blonde boys head flicks up and his eyes meet the camera again, “Za-Zayn?” He whispers, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth when the knife cuts a shallow slit just below his ear.

“Oh my God,” Liam gasps, “he can _hear_ us.”

“Niall, oh _fuck, Niall!_ Don’t worry baby, don’t worry we’re going to get you home,” Louis promises, though he didn’t sound too confident. “I swear to _God_ we will get you home.” He says as though he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Niall.

“P-please.” Niall breathes, trying to ignore the man as he licks a slimy strip along his pink cheek, “Please get me out of here.”

And then he’s gone. The screen goes black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, yes, the Deep(Dark) Web is very, very real, and very dangerous. 
> 
> I have never tried to get onto the deep web, and i decided against including the instructions on how to get there because i do not recommend any of you ever try to get there. Everything stated in this chapter is very real, including Tor and covering the webcam, and even all of the things that can be found there. Awful things such as hitmen and crude child pornography can be found there; hypothetically this situation could very well occur somewhere in the deep web. One requirement to using it is to log on to a server type thing that allows the users, no matter where they are, to remain anonymous. This makes it possible for Niall's captor to remain undetected and untraceable. 
> 
> It's a terrifying thing and i really hope that none of you try to experience it for yourselves, i know that i've done enough research and heard enough stories to stay away from it myself. 
> 
> Anyway, just thought i'd give you guys some insight, just in case you begin to wonder where the hell i came up with this or why the police can't just track down the man who kidnapped niall.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys need to figure out what to do to get niall back.

“Fuck,” Zayn whispers, immediately standing up from the bed, “ _fuck!_ ”

Liam closes his eyes before dropping his face into his hands, “60 _billion_.”

“We don’t have that kind of money,” Louis mumbles, standing up and beginning to pace, “we don’t have that much.”

“We need to get him back.” Harry says, his voice soft and filled to the brim with fear. _Fear_. Harry had felt fear before. He’d felt fear when he rode his first rollercoaster, and when hundreds of screaming fans appeared outside his home at three in the morning. But this, _this_ was not the same type of fear. This made his stomach twist and curl and it made his hands shake and his mind go blank. This fear was an entirely different type of fear. Because he knew that he would make it off of the rollercoaster alive, he knew that the fans outside of his home weren’t there to hurt him, but with this fear… Harry didn’t _know_ if he was going to make it out alive, he doesn’t _know_ that the man who took Niall isn’t going to try to hurt him too. Harry just doesn’t know. All that he knows is that this _monster_ has Niall, their Niall, somewhere. And Niall isn’t safe, he won’t be safe until they get that money.

“We just- we just need to empty out our bank accounts,” Harry whispers, meeting Louis’ sadness crazed eyes, “empty them out. Empty out our secret ones too, get all the money that we can.”

“Harry…” Louis tries, approaching him and dropping a heavy hand on his shoulder. Harry is already shaking his head before Louis’ continues, “Harry, at _most_ we could have _maybe_ a billion. At _most_.” He says sadly.

Harry’s face contorts into that of anger and he shoves Louis back a step, “How could you just- just _give up_ , Louis?”

Zayn stops pacing and removes his cigarette from his lips, looking as though he wanted to stop Harry but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.

“We have to _try_!” Harry spits, shoving Louis back another step.

“Harry!” Louis shouts, stepping forward and gripping Harry’s shoulders tightly, shaking him, “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to _think_?!  I want to get Niall back just as much as you do, but what am I to do? What are _we_ supposed to do? Rob a bank?”

“Hey, hey, let’s all calm down, yeah?” Zayn steps in between them, pushing lightly against Harry’s chest to make him back down.  With a frustrated groan Harry drops to the floor, curling in on himself and beginning to let out pained wails.

“What if they kill him?” He whispers softly, ignoring the feeling of Liam’s fingers combing through his curls, “W-what if some pervert _pays_ to have him killed or maimed or raped?”

“We can’t let that happen…” Liam whispers, shaking his head before looking at Zayn and Louis, “We have to do something.”

\--

Everything had been going great at the club; a few of Niall’s friends from home had come to their show that night and decided to come out, the Five Seconds of Summer boys managed to get in(despite ¾ of them being underage) and there were many, _many_ , beautiful girls. The energy was amazing and the drinks even better, Niall downed pint after pint and even a couple strange, fruity drinks that Harry recommended, though it didn’t really matter. It all pretty much was the same to Niall; it all burned his stomach in the best way alcohol does, and made him have to piss like no other. For the umpteenth time that night Niall had to excuse himself from the group of people who surrounded him and he headed to the bathroom, weaving in and out of the mass of bodies. His mind was fuzzy, but the near decade of drinking he had behind him made his tolerance higher than others, so he wouldn’t necessarily say that he was drunk (though he was finding it more and more difficult to hold his bladder… he blamed that on the fruity drinks).

 It seemed as though he couldn’t make it into the bathroom fast enough. He flung the door open and gasped loudly when he heard it collide with something that sounded terrifyingly human, “Oh, Christ, mate I am so sorry.” He blabs, stepping into the empty looking restroom, “You alright?”

The man he hit was large; tall and wide. He wore a baseball cap that casted a dark shadow over his face, it made a weird, eerie feeling fall over Niall and he gulped. “No harm done.” The man grinned, rubbing his elbow. Niall stayed silent momentarily and he could feel the man just staring at him, he could hear the man breathing deeply.

“Right, ehm, sorry again.” He said, not making eye contact as he side-stepped the stranger, really just wanting to go and finally take a piss. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his mouth when he felt a large hand grip his bicep, “The fuck?”

When he turned around he ran straight into the large torso of the man, who then leaned down dangerously close to Niall’s face. He could smell his rancid breath and faint scent of body odor and cologne, “Listen, boy,” the man hissed, “meet me outside in ten minutes, no more, no less.”

Niall gulped, trying to puff up his chest, “Why should I do that?”

“Because,” he laughed, “if you don’t, I’ll take your little band mates and slit their throats.”

Niall’s blue eyes narrowed and he tried to tug his arm away, growling when the man wouldn’t let him go but instead grabbed his other bicep, “Let go of me.” He hissed, getting irritated and frankly terrified.

“Outside. Ten minutes.”

Then he was gone, out the door in seconds before Niall could catch his breath or get his heart rate back down to a normal speed. It thumped in his chest and he closed his eyes momentarily; he didn’t quite understand what just happened to him. Was this strange man really about to find his friends- Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Harry, and kill them in cold blood? Niall shook his head, he couldn’t believe that. As he padded into one of the bathroom stalls to _finally_ take a piss, his phone buzzed in his pocket. With a groan he dug through his trousers to find it while attempting to aim his stream in the toilet. After several moments of struggling he tugged it free, flicking his thumb across the screen to view his new message.

 _Five minutes_ , it said. An unknown number. How could a text message come from an unknown number? He cursed and slammed his fist on the stall before taking a deep breath and tugging up his pants. He needed to figure out a plan; should he tell Paul? The police? The boys? He had no idea, he had no idea how serious this man was or how willing he was to actually _kill_ them.

“Calm down, Irish,” he whispered to himself, approaching the sink to wash his hands, “calm down. Nothin’ will happen.”

His phone vibrated again.

_I bet the curly one’s blood would look real pretty against that pale skin, don’t you think?_

It buzzed several times in a row and Niall’s eyes bugged wide.

_Who’s the dark skinned one? He’s a catch, yeah? Bet he’d scream so lovely._

_Liam really shouldn’t drink, should he? Who just gives a stranger their address like that…_

_The other one, Louis smells amazing. Almost to_ die _for._

“Fuck!” He swore, leaning against the granite sink. “ _Fuck_.”

_Two minutes._

Niall licked his lips and headed out of the bathroom; he ducked his head and stared at the ground, hoping that none of the boys would spot him. Hoping that _nobody_ would stop him, to be honest. Luckily or him he made it out of the club without one person even noticing that he had left.

“I knew you’d come.” The man grinned, dropping a heavy arm around Niall’s shoulders as if they were the best of friends. He led Niall across the street to a parking garage and he was shoved into the back seat of a black vehicle. “Phone.” The stranger demanded, holding his hand out until Niall placed his mobile on his palm. In seconds it was flying out of the window, crashing onto the cement and exploding into dozens of tiny pieces.

Niall squealed from the backseat, “What do you want from me?”

The man only laughed, “Nothing that I won’t be getting soon, kid.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys try to figure out how to get Niall back  
> (sorry for the shitty summary, dont wana give anything away!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fucking sorry that it's taken so long to update! I have been on summer vacation, but it hasnt really been much of a vacation. I had two online classes i had to do that took up like five hours a day and by the time i had finished i just really didn't want to be on the computer anymore haha.
> 
> but here a shitty update, sorry for the wait and thank you for all of your support!

“We need to go to the police,” Louis hisses, wiping his hand over his face. “we don’t have a choice. Any second that we stand here doing nothing is another second that someone could be hurting Niall.” Immediately after saying the words Louis feels vomit rise up in his throat. At this very moment Niall could be in pain; being beaten or raped or… He couldn’t even think of anything else. He didn’t want to. His heart cracked in his chest at the thought of Niall, their Niall, being hurt when just yesterday he was laughing on stage and safe. But Niall isn’t safe now and Louis was going to be sick.

They had to get him back.

Harry looks up from his hands, blinking away the tears that seemed to be permanently filling his eyes. He watches Louis as he paces back and forth; Louis appears exhausted, as though the events of today had just sucked him dry of energy. Harry feels exhausted, too. His body wants nothing more than to just shut down and he wants to just go to sleep. Go to sleep and wake up and have all of this be just some horrible nightmare.

“Lou, you heard the guy, if we go to the cops he’ll kill him.” Liam practically pleads, his eyes flashing with horror as he imagines Niall’s blood on the hands of his abductor. “This’ll be all over the news in seconds, he’ll know right away that we’ve told and he’ll…” Louis groaned and slammed his fist against the wall, sucking an angry breath in through his nose. He hated this, he hated that for some reason the other boys just seemed so ready to let these awful things happen to Niall. He hated that they weren’t willing to do something to help him.

“Liam’s right Lou,” Zayn adds sadly, “we can’t risk this getting out there. All over the news, in the papers, we can’t risk it…”

“Bollocks we can’t risk it!” Louis shouts, his blue eyes flaming with emotion, “If you’re so keen on getting Niall back without the police, then please, enlighten me on how you’re going to do it alone.” The three others remain silent, refusing to meet Louis’ cold eyes, “C’mon lads, what’s the big plan?”

At Louis’ words Zayn practically felt himself shatter, along with any hope he had left. Maybe Louis was right… How were they going to save Niall?

\--

“Please, just let me go. I swear I won’t tell anyone, I swear it!”

Niall had been pleading for what seems like hours, to no avail. The man hardly ever spoke to him, and when he did it was with a weird sort of… affection. He cooed at Niall fondly, as if talking to a child or a puppy. He stroked Niall’s hair softly and caressed his skin with short, grubby fingers and cleanly groomed finger nails. His scent crawled into Niall’s nose, smelling of aftershave. It made Niall think of this man as something more than just a kidnapper; this guy was a business man. This man knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to do it, and exactly how to get away with it.

It made him wonder just how exactly his friends or anyone else were going to be able to save him.

“P-please…”

“Boy, you really are relentless aren’t you.” The man chuckles, bustling around the dim room as though he had many things to get done.

“They’ll find me, you know,” Niall spits, wriggling his arms against the tightness of the zip tie that held his wrists together, “they’ll find me and you’ll go to prison, for the rest of your life.”

The man strides towards Niall, his bright hazel eyes the only thing visible through the black mask that he wore. They shimmer in the shitty lighting as he crouches down, meeting Niall’s height and stroking a single finger down Niall’s pink cheek. “Unfortunately,” he says softly, glancing along Niall’s boyish features, as though admiring them, “they won’t. And it’d be best to just take that ball of hope you’re holding on to,” he makes a motion of tossing something over his shoulder, “and throw it away.” He smacks Niall’s cheek before standing again.

Tears began to flow down Niall’s cheeks again and he spat a glob of blood from his mouth onto the floor, “You bastard. You disgusting, bastard.”

“I prefer Sir actually.”

“Fuck you.” Niall hisses, not flinching as Sir stomped back over to him, appearing angry. Niall anticipated the pain he knew was coming and squeezed his eyes shut, though it never did. It never came. When he opened his eyes again Sir was standing in front of him, breathing heavily and tapping his foot. He did that for several minutes, leaving an uneasy feeling in Niall’s gut before Sir whipped out the same knife again.

It was weird. In that moment Niall almost wanted Sir to just end it all right then and there. To just slit his throat or stab him through the heart; anything to prevent what he knew was soon coming for him. The things that would be done to him, the things that people will pay to have done to him. When he thought about it Niall felt that death would be better, hell anything would be better than what was going to happen to him. But instead of giving Niall an out, Sir just cut the zip ties, leaving Niall able to finally move his arms freely.

He sat still, though, contemplating the odds of him winning if he chose to fight back. The odds didn’t appear to be in his favor, what with the knife Sir held and the gun that Niall spotted peaking out of his belt. He sat still.

“Come on then, boy.” Sir said, though Niall had no idea what he wanted. It showed on his face apparently because then Sir sighed, “You’re going to shower and use the restroom.” He said, beginning to walk away. Niall stood there, speechless. Why would his kidnapper, the one who threatened to kill him, willingly turn his back and trust Niall not to attack him. Any normal person would have jumped on the opportunity to catch their attacker off guard, but Niall… Niall just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Images of the gun and the knife flashed across his eyes and he couldn’t. He followed the man across the dingy room into another one; a bathroom.

Sir ushered Niall inside first and shut the door. “Take your clothes off.” He said, taking a seat on the toilet and staring at Niall. The last thing that Niall wanted to do was take off his clothes in front of this man. To be naked was to be vulnerable and it was going to confirm the many things that he didn’t want to believe in. Niall couldn’t take his clothes off.

“Piss off.”

Sir sighed deeply before standing again. He takes several steps towards Niall, backing him against the cold wood of the door. “Do you really want to make me tell you again, Blondie?”

Niall’s eyes dart towards the gun sticking out of Sir’s belt and he hunches in defeat, knowing that he had lost. And he will keep losing, too.

“That’s what I thought.” Still Niall stood there, frozen in place. He could feel Sir staring him down but he just couldn’t move, he couldn’t. “Am I gonna have to do it for you?”

Shaking his head, Niall began to tug his white t-shirt over his head, cringing as the cold air hit his skin. Thousands of tiny goosebumps appeared along his pale body and Sir grinned, licking his lips as though Niall were something to eat. Ignoring him to the best of his abilities, Niall unbuttons his trousers next, letting them fall to the ground with a tiny plop. And this was it, his boxers were the only thing left. The only thing left separating his body from this monster that stood in front of him. Tears sprang up in Niall’s eyes and he just couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t pretend that he was okay anymore. They streamed quickly and heavily down his cheeks and dripped onto the tiles of the bathroom as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts. His hands shook and he could hardly breathe properly knowing that he was about to show all of his pride and glory to this stranger.

“Might want to get used to showing me, kid,” Sir said matter-of-factly, “you’re going to be showin’ more than just me soon.” That was it for Niall, as the words processed so did his sobs. They began to shake his entire body; loud and hard. With a groan of impatience Sir whacks Niall’s still shaking hands out of the way and tugs his boxers down to his ankles, revealing the last of his body. Sir stripped away the last of Niall’s pride, the last inkling of hope that he had left, all of it was gone.

The air was harsh and cold against Niall’s most intimate bits and he moved his hands to cover himself, crying harder when his captor forced his hands away again, “Wanna see you.” He says softly, rubbing circles on Niall’s hip bone as if it were going to comfort him. As though it were going to just make all of this okay. “So perfect,” Sir coos, his hand trailing down Niall’s thigh and back up again, “so beautiful. The clients are going to go absolutely mad for you.”

Niall closed his eyes tightly, hoping that if he squeezed them tight enough that he would be able to disappear; just leave his body and go somewhere else. But nothing he thought of or tried could make the feeling of Sir’s hands on him go away. He could still feel the fingers trailing along the flat plains of his abs and he felt them tweak his nipples. They squeeze and knead his bum and caress his cheek, tuck his mussed up hair behind his ear. They do things that only Niall’s intimate partners have done, which he can admit, is not a large sum. Despite the popular belief that their band is a group of womanizers and players and ladies-men, Niall was probably the least fitting to that description. He was a partier, sure, he loved to get pissed drunk as well as flirt with the groupies… But to give his body to someone he hardly cared for? He wasn’t raised that way, he was raised to share these things with the ones he loved. This man, this bastard, was not someone that he loved. The urge to vomit circles in Niall’s gut and he flinches away, back against the door which only reminds him that he has nowhere to go.

“Alright,” Sir says, pulling away from Niall to turn the shower on, “get in then. Can’t have you look a mess for your first show, can we?”

Niall just nods, using his hands to cover himself again as he stalks to the shower and he steps in slower, ignoring the feeling of eyes burning into his bare bum. As his skin adjusts to the heat of the water he wishes nothing more that there was a curtain to separate him from the man who sat on the toilet, watching him. Niall feels violated and disgusted, as well as slightly awkward. He couldn’t possible begin to wash himself with this man watching and he stands still under the stream of water, hating the idea of doing something so simple, yet so private, in front of someone. Hesitantly, he reaches for the bar of soap sitting on the ledge of the tub and he lathers it in his hands, his eyes darting quickly to Sir as he does so.

  “How about I help you with that?” Sir says, his voice laced with lust.

He nearly chokes out a scoff, “I’ve got it.” Niall spits, daggers flying from his eyes as he begins to wash under his arms and on his chest.

“I insist,” The man growls, slowly placing his hand on the pistol laid beside him, “I will help you.” Niall gulps as he is approached and lets Sir tug the soap from his hands to lather it in his own; he does so slowly and with a smirk on his face, as if taunting Niall, as if to say I will always win. His large hands, once covered in soap, begin to swirl along Niall’s tummy. He drags is fingers along Niall’s happy trail down to his groin, cupping it in one hand and squeezing softly. A whimper escapes Niall’s lips and he feels hot tears press against his eyes as Sir holds his flaccid cock in one hand, massaging the suds into the short scruff of pubic hair. Sir wills Niall to turn around, using his hands on the boys hips to guide him against the tile wall, telling him to brace himself up with his arms and stick his bum out. Niall does as he is told, placing his hands against the wall and arching his back slightly. He bites his lip to hold back a sob as cold air wafts against the wet flesh of his most intimate parts and the feeling of two hands scrubbing along the muscles in his back. “Amazing…” Sir purrs, dancing his finger down Niall’s spin to the curve of his arse before bringing it up and then back down in a smack. A cry rips through Niall’s throat and he almost drops to his knees right then and there; the pain caused by the smack seems to have multiplied by thousands on his wet skin.

It feels as though thousands of little needles are pricking him bum cheek and he is almost grateful that Sir begins massage the reddened cheek where the smack landed, soothing away the pain. Niall puffs out a sigh and clenches his muscles, trying to bare through what was coming next. He felt Sirs finger slide from his bum cheek to the crevice in between them, running the tip across his hole repeatedly and making Niall grimace at the touch. It was quite a new sensation, he had never had anyone go anywhere near his arsehole and he hated the way that the unfamiliar touch sent chills of disgust up his spine.

“Stop… Stop!” He growls, trying to turn his body around. The idea of flipping himself around and socking Sir in the jaw is much easier than actually doing so, and all he manages is to slip on the suds and water of the ceramic tub and land in a heap on his knees. A shooting pain, different than that of the spank, erupts in his knee and he knows that he must have damaged it. He had always had a bad knee, he thinks he was just born with a gimpy one, but doctors have always told him that he could keep playing footie and jumping around on stage as long as he was able to keep it out of trouble. This was trouble. The way it slammed down on the hard bathtub was trouble. Much to his own disbelief, Niall found himself crying not over the pain but because of the idea of not being able play football and mess about during concerts. His eyes clench shut in pain and he tries to stand when he feels a hand grip his blonde locks, tugging him up.

“You’re okay,” Sir says, though Niall is not okay. “stand up, then.” He orders, and Niall does so by transferring most of his body weight onto the opposite leg. A large breath of air fills Niall’s lungs and he blinks several times, ridding his blue eyes of tears for what seems like the millionth time since… last night? Two nights ago? He hasn’t any clue, it feels like it was just a few hours ago that he was forced to talk to his friends, but for all he knew it could have been days. Within seconds he feels hands wandering his body again, the tense muscles of his back, wrapping around to his pecks and down his torso all the way to his cock, then back to his bum. Though there are only two hands of one man he feels hundreds of them, crawling all over his body. Once again a finger dances its way in between his arse cheeks, teasing along the muscles of his hole. Reacting to the touch, Niall tries to wriggle away pitifully, because his heart really isn’t in it. He knows he won’t be able to get away.

The finger pulls away and Niall glances over his shoulder, watching Sir as he lathers his fingers up in Ivory soap, all while keeping his eyes focused on Niall’s arse. The sick bastard. His mouth was practically watering as he stared at the boy’s exposed body and reaches his hands back out, gripping Niall’s hip firmly in one and licking his lips. “Ready, baby?” He whispers, poking the tip of his thick, long finger in Niall’s hole.

No, no Niall was not ready. “No!” He squeaks, whacking away the hand that was violating him, “Don’t fucking touch me, just don’t touch me!” Niall shouts, slamming his eyes shut again and stomping his foot. He felt somewhat like a child throwing a tantrum, but he didn’t know what else to do. His knee rendered him too weak to fight back (as if he would even have a chance with a good knee. He wouldn’t get very far with that knife and gun he’d be going up against) and he just released all of his pent up emotions. “Get your fucking disgusting, pedo hands away from me!”

With a sigh Sir leans back on his heels, looking at Niall through that stupid mask as if he were waiting for Niall to be finished. He began to wring his hands together and a vein began to pulse in his neck as anger took over his face. Sensing the instant mood change Niall opens his eyes again, becoming slightly more terrified when he sees that Sirs pupils are huge saucers in his eyes, dilated with arousal and fury. “Listen, boy,” he hisses, grabbing hold of Niall’s hair and forcing his blue eyes to focus on his own angry pair, “I’m done being nice with you.” Is all he says before he slams Niall against the tile wall, his cheek pushing against it painfully. Niall’s knee aches as well as the bruises he’s managed to collect all over his body, his head is now in pain from the blow against the wall, and then Sir begins to smack his arse, just like the one before. Except not. There’s so many that Niall can’t keep track of how many times he is hit, and the pain… The pain is so much more. The water coming from the shower head started to get cold several minutes ago and now continuously sprayed Niall with frozen water, only intensifying the pain he felt from Sir’s smacks. “Are you finished?” Sir asks once Niall is a sobbing mess and can barely stand on his own, “Are you going to be good, now?”

Niall only nods and sucks his lip into his mouth, biting down on it painfully hard as he feels fingers near his arse again. A finger slowly pushes inside of him and Niall tenses up immediately, causing the intrusion to become even more painful, especially as a second finger presses inside. Sir moans quietly as he watches his finger disappear inside of the pale boy and he begins to work it in and out, picking up the pace each second.

“P-please, stop.” Niall pleads, clenching his hands into fists and digging his nails into his palm, trying to distract himself from the fingers beginning to fuck him. Several minutes go by and Niall begins to feel a burning sensation, unlike the stretching burn he had felt previously, it now feels like a fire is burning in between his arse cheeks. “I-it burns! What’ve…What’ve you done to me!” He sobs, letting out another scream when what he thinks is a fourth finger pushes inside of him.

“I’ve used soap to start the stretching process,” Sir says distractedly, more focused on how amazing Niall looks with his nose crinkled and brow creased in pain, “leaves quite the sting, doesn’t it?” He chuckles and Niall feels the hatred he has for this man grow larger and larger in each passing second.

Niall feels his warm tears trail down his cheeks and mix with the cold water of the shower, trailing down his body and he shakes intensely. Partially from the pain he feels, and partially because the water feels like ice against his skin. His lips have long turned blue and have yet to stop shaking; he feels as though he will collapse at any moment “Please…”

Then everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter guys! Please let me know what you think


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